O Moths, moths we all once breathed. Moths’ hearts beat one word:” USURP!” as the fire triumphs tree. Elementals have now spun rifts. Moths caught in the rifts, moths caught in the rifts, moths caught in the rifts.
U. SURP. U. SURP.
Speak fogged distance, which crags of blood do not hide perversive origins, bouts of skin, cemented eyes. So speak fogged distance, which crags of blood do not hide perversive origins, bouts of skin, cemented eyes.